ROSE FELICITY ADAMS lay asleep in Matilda’s arms. Hero lay across the doorway, his head resting on his paws.
“He won’t let us out of his sight,” Matilda said. “Chase is worried I’m going to trip over him.”
Fliss hovered at the edge of the room watching her friend. She’d never seen anyone so content. It was hard to believe the drama of a few nights before had ever happened. True, she looked tired, but there was a light in her eyes, and a smile of pure happiness hovered around her mouth. Fliss wished she could feel half as relaxed. Instead she felt restless and unsettled.
And it wasn’t seeing the baby. For some reason she didn’t entirely understand, the raw feelings of loss and grief that had poured out of her that night of the birth hadn’t returned. Somehow they’d diminished, the sharp edges worn away by the tide of her emotion. Emotional erosion.
No, it wasn’t baby Rose who was the cause of her current feelings.
It was Seth.
I want to discover what we have now.
What did he mean by that? They didn’t have anything now. Except confusion and a whole lot of new stress. She’d thought a conversation would be the end of something. Instead it seemed that it was the beginning. But the beginning of what?
Life would have been simpler if she’d stayed in Manhattan. Or if he’d stayed in Manhattan. Or if he’d been born less attractive. The moment she thought it, she dismissed it. It wasn’t about the way he looked but the way he was. Persistent and damn stubborn. Decent and caring.
And stubborn.
Other people mostly respected her boundaries. Seth seemed determined to invade them. Was that a legacy from his childhood? His family had always been open and communicative. Even when they’d been involved in a shouting match, they’d been communicating. It wasn’t just food they’d shared in the Carlyle household, it had been feelings. Feelings had been right there at the table along with glistening tomatoes and ripe goats’ cheese. To her, it had felt alien and unfamiliar. When they’d tried to include her, she’d answered as briefly as possible, her smile stretched and stiff. She hadn’t been able to switch off that side of her that constantly asked why do they want to know this and how are they going to use it against me?
She wanted desperately to be part of their group, to fit in, but nothing in her past had trained her for this. Her childhood had taught her not to engage. How to deflect any possible intrusion into her feelings. But Seth hadn’t been put off by those barriers. And it seemed nothing had changed.
The fact that he wanted to see her again made her nervous. Uneasy. Exposed. It was like setting the alarm on your house, knowing that the person watching from outside had both the key and the code and could walk in at anytime.
She shouldn’t have gone to his place for dinner. That had been a bad move. If she’d just had the conversation on the side of the road that day, instead of pretending to be Harriet, she wouldn’t be in this mess now. There was nothing remotely disturbing about a conversation conducted in blazing heat with traffic pounding past, kicking up dust. They would have sweated it out and gone their separate ways. Awkward moment done.
Instead, there had been the intimacy of his house. Just the two of them and a thousand heated memories she definitely hadn’t needed in the room with her. And as if that wasn’t torture enough, it had been followed by that walk on the beach, something they’d done so many times before.
Moonlight over the ocean.
Why had she agreed to that?
He hadn’t touched her, and yet she’d wanted him to. Yet another thing that made no sense. The feelings should have faded by now, but instead they continued to throb, unrelenting and raw.
Frustrated by all the things she couldn’t control and didn’t understand, she glared out the window and jumped as Matilda cleared her throat.
“Is everything okay?”
“Of course. Everything is perfect.” If you ignored the fact that she hadn’t slept well since Seth arrived back in her life. The stress was starting to age her.
“You seem tense.”
“It shows? Am I going gray?” She grabbed a handful of hair and examined it. “I’m going to be old and haggard before my time.”
“You’re a long way from old and haggard. Is it Seth?” Matilda looked worried. “Is it my fault for inadvertently revealing you’re not Harriet? I feel terrible about that.”
“Don’t. I was planning to confess anyway.” Maybe. Or maybe she would have legged it back to Manhattan. Would he have followed her if she’d done that? And would she have wanted him to? Her thoughts spun randomly, like leaves caught in a gust of wind. She never knew quite where they were going to fall. “And it’s pretty cool having a baby named after me.”
“I blew your cover. And now Seth knows.”
Another person would have told her that Seth already knew. They would probably have laughed about it, the laughter tinged with embarrassment. But Fliss wasn’t that person. “I should have done it a long time ago, but I was so tangled up in my own lies I didn’t know how to get out of it.”
“Was it very awkward? I want details.”
She didn’t do details. “We talked.”
And while he was talking she’d been preoccupied by the shape of his mouth and the thickness of his eyelashes.
How was it right that one man could be so attractive? There was no justice in the world. If there was then she should have been able to spend an evening with Seth without feeling as if her emotions had been dumped in a cocktail shaker and treated with a total lack of mercy.
She didn’t know whether it was his eyes or his smile, but something about him turned her inside out.
Or maybe it was that confidence. She’d always envied that confidence. The fact that he was so sure. She assumed it came from having parents who encouraged and believed in him. Parents who were proud.
She, on the other hand, was a seething mass of uncertainty. And she hated feeling that way. Surely she should have shaken it off by now.
What did it matter that no one in her family had ever been proud of her? She had a business and an apartment, albeit small and shared with her sister. And she’d paid for all of it herself. Her father had never given her a single cent. She was proud of herself. That was all that should count.
“I need you to translate something for me.” The words blurted out of her mouth, surprising her.
“I’ve never been good at languages.” The breeze floated through the open window, taking the edge off the heat.
“I’m talking about men. You understand men.”
Matilda burst out laughing. “Fictional men. I understand my characters, but that’s because I’m the one who made them up. And I hope I understand Chase, at least most of the time.”
Chase had been the one who had led Fliss into the house, and he’d hovered close to Matilda and the baby until she’d gently shoed him off to do some work. The look he and Matilda had shared had made it clear to Fliss that they’d forgotten she was even in the room.
Once again she’d found herself envying their close connection. “Do you tell Chase everything?”
“Yes. It’s what makes it so good. I don’t have to hide who I am from him, he knows and loves me anyway.” Matilda settled the baby more comfortably. “So what is it you need me to translate? Body language or a situation?”
“You told me the other day that you think through the reasons people act the way they do. So that’s what I want to know. The reason.” She’d been thinking about it all night. Her brain had gone around and around until she’d felt dizzy with thinking. And still she couldn’t make sense of it. She’d spent a decade thinking things were a certain way, and now that they were different she didn’t recognize what she was looking at. “I need to understand why Seth is behaving the way he is.”
“I’m going to need a little more information.”
“It’s the first time I’ve seen him in ten years—”
“As yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve seen him as Harriet.”
Fliss sent her a look. “Are you going to keep interrupting?”
“Sorry.”
“He invited me to dinner. Why do that? Why go to the trouble of dinner for what might have been the most awkward encounter of the decade?”
“That’s why you’re so distracted.” Matilda nodded, as if Fliss had just shared something momentous. “I’m guessing it was because he didn’t want to rush it. Dinner ensures that you have time to say what needs to be said. He took you to a restaurant? What type of restaurant? Romantic, or neutral territory?”
“It wasn’t a restaurant. He invited me to his home. He cooked.”
“I love a man who can cook.” Matilda tucked the blanket around the baby. “And cooking for you at home is more personal than a restaurant. Intimate.”
“That makes no sense. Why would he want it to be personal and intimate?”
“Perhaps he thought it was better for your relationship to spend time together without anyone else around.”
“What relationship? This is why I’m confused. Our relationship was over ten years ago, and even when it was running hot we didn’t do dinners.” But they’d done romantic moonlight walks on the beach. And they’d done other things, too. Things she couldn’t stop thinking about.
“So what did you do first time around? How did you spend your time?”
Fliss looked at the baby. “She’s too young to hear it.”
“Right.” Matilda laughed. “I get the picture. It was more hormones than head or heart.”
There had been heart, Fliss thought. On her side, at least. There had been so much heart she’d found it difficult to pick herself up afterward. But that wasn’t something she shared.
“Last night he cooked, then we had a walk on the beach and talked.”
“Seems straightforward. So which part of that needs deciphering?”
“The things he said weren’t the things I expected him to say.”
Matilda looked at her. “If you’re expecting some input from me, you’re going to have to give me more.”
“I assumed he was mad at me. I mean, he should have been mad at me.”
“Why? What did you do?”
Fliss stared out the window, letting her mind slide back to the past. “It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that he wasn’t mad. And—he surprised me, that’s all.” And she’d surprised herself with what she’d revealed. “I thought he’d say his piece and then I’d leave. I thought that would be the end of it. And every time I saw him after that I’d wave and say, ‘Hi, Seth.’”
“But—?”
“He wants to see me again.” Fliss let out a breath. “I didn’t see that coming. He should be staying away from me.”
“It doesn’t look to me as if that’s what he wants.”
“But what does it mean? He said he wanted to spend time with me. So is that time as a friend, or time as more than a friend?”
“Do you always think this much about relationships?”
“Yes, but that isn’t the point. The point is that I don’t have a relationship with Seth.”
“But clearly he wants one.”
“Why? Where is this all going?”
“I don’t know. Maybe all he wants is friendship. Or maybe he doesn’t know either. Maybe he just wants to spend time with you and see how it turns out.”
And how would it turn out?
“I thought the whole point of having the conversation we had last night was to get it out of the way so that we could move forward. And now he wants to rewind the clock. It’s confusing, and I don’t like feeling confused. It’s stressful.”
Melissa smiled. “Do you always overthink everything?”
“Sometimes.” When it was something that could hurt her? Always.
The baby looked so peaceful, her eyes closed.
Fliss envied the simplicity of her life. At that moment she would have swapped places.
Matilda stirred. “Could you hold her for a moment while I run to the bathroom?”
Fliss thought about the way the baby had felt in her arms. “You don’t want to put her in her crib? She’s asleep. Seems a shame to wake her.”
“Exactly. The moment I put her in the crib she wakes up, and I don’t want her to wake up. And anyway, it’s an excuse for you to have a cuddle with your namesake.”
Fliss had been searching for excuses not to have a cuddle, but admitting that would have required explanations she didn’t want to give, so she took the baby carefully, hoping that her bruised heart proved more robust than the last time she’d handled little Rose. “I hope I don’t wake her up. I haven’t had that much to do with babies.”
There was an ache inside her. Regret? Longing?
If you hadn’t lost the baby we’d still be together.
Was that true?
The thought made her feel sick. It brought back all the “if onlys” she tried never to allow into her head.
“You’ll be fine.” Matilda vanished from the room, stepping carefully over Hero, who didn’t shift his gaze from Fliss and the baby. He’d obviously decided that Rose was now his priority.
“You think this is easy?” Fliss stood without moving, desperate not to wake the baby. “Try putting your paw on a thorn and then pressing down hard. That’s how it feels.”
Hero yawned.
“I would have expected a little more sympathy, given all the outstanding walks you’ve had from me. You owe me.”
Still watching her, Hero settled his nose on his paws, a benign bodyguard.
Matilda reappeared and took the baby from her. “So where’s he taking you?”
“Sailing.”
“Oh, lucky you.” She slotted Rose onto her shoulder as naturally as if she’d been doing it forever. “Chase loves sailing with Seth.”
She’d loved it, too.
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“No. He’s a skilled sailor. He and Chase got into difficulties once out in the bay, and it was Seth who got them out of it.”
“I wasn’t talking about the sailing. I mean, it’s crazy to do something a second time when it went badly wrong the first time.”
“Are you worried about him, or yourself?”
“Both of us.”
Even in the last twenty-four hours, things had changed.
The discovery that he’d tried to contact her and that no one had told her was another piece of the jigsaw that explained some of the events back then.
“Maybe I should have invited him to join me for lunch with Grams and her friends. That would have scared him off.”
Matilda transferred the baby to her other shoulder. “Seth doesn’t strike me as a man who scares easily. You, on the other hand—”
“What? What about me?”
Matilda hesitated. “You don’t sound as if you’re planning a date, that’s all. You sound as if you’re preparing to defend yourself from attack. You’re not exploring the possibilities of a relationship, you’re formulating a battle plan.”
A battle plan?
Fliss thought about it while she walked Hero on the beach in front of Matilda’s house, and was still thinking about it when she returned to her grandmother’s house.
Her grandmother was in the kitchen with four women Fliss knew vaguely from the summers she’d spent here as a child.
“Sorry to disturb you. I came to walk Charlie. Everything okay, Grams?”
“Everything is good, thank you. You remember Martha? She owns the bakery on Main Street, although her daughter is mostly running it now. And Dora, who you’ll remember from the doctor’s office, and Jane and Rita, who used to live down the road but moved to East Hampton. You all know my granddaughter.” She eyed Fliss, taking her cue from her, and Fliss gave a faint smile.
She’d given up on subterfuge.
“I’m Fliss,” she said. “Hello, ladies.” She murmured a generic greeting, hoping that Dora had forgotten the time she’d visited the clinic with poison oak, having brushed against the leaves on her way to meet Seth. “You seem to be having fun. Cookies from Cookies and Cream?”
“Of course. They’re the best. Apart from the ones your sister makes, of course. And we only do this twice a month, so we’re allowed a treat.”
“Twice a month? So this is a regular thing?”
“We meet once to play poker, and once for our book group. We prefer to meet at lunchtime because we all go to bed early.”
Fliss stared at the cards on the table. “Poker?”
“We are the Poker Princesses, didn’t you know?”
Fliss hoped her mouth wasn’t open. “No,” she said. “I didn’t know.”
“Why so surprised?” Her grandmother studied her over the rim of her glasses. “You think poker is something played by men throbbing with testosterone in a smoke-filled room, is that it?”
“I wouldn’t say no,” Jane murmured and Fliss grinned.
“It’s true you don’t exactly fit the vision in my head.”
“It keeps our brains sharp and it’s fun, even though Rita usually wins.”
Dora tutted. “Because none of us can ever read her expression.”
“That’s the Botox,” Rita said cheerfully. “And I like the sound of men throbbing with testosterone. Could we invite a few for our next session?”
Fliss laughed. “Are you playing for cookies?”
“Goodness no. Money.” There was a gleam in her grandmother’s eye. “What’s the point otherwise?”
Fliss decided there was plenty she still had to learn about her grandmother.
“I’ll take Charlie and leave you all to your gambling habit.”
“Thanks, honey.” Her grandmother put her cards down on the table. “She’s been walking Hero for Matilda and Charlie for me twice a day. He’s looking better for it. Lost a bit of weight and he’s calmer. Better behaved. She takes him to the beach and lets him run.”
Dora glanced up. “I thought it was Harriet who was going to come and stay with you until you’re back on your feet.”
“Turned out it was Fliss.” Her grandmother’s voice was calm. “Which was lucky for me. She’s sorted out all my paperwork and my finances, which were in a horrible mess. And she’s great with Charlie.”
Rita looked confused. “I thought Harriet was the one who has the gift with animals.”
“Fliss has a gift, too. And she’s not as soft as Harriet. They know they can’t mess with her, which is a good thing. And she has a savvy business brain, does my Fliss. She’s built a thriving business from nothing, and in New York City, where thousands of businesses go under daily.”
Fliss felt a rush of gratitude. She wasn’t used to people defending her. She was usually the one doing the defending.
“If we’re moving on to that subject, I need more tea.” Jane helped herself. “When your grandmother starts, there’s no stopping her. If we let her, she’d spend our entire poker session boasting about you.”
Fliss smiled. “I think you mean Harriet.”
“No, dear, I mean you.” Jane stirred her tea. “She talks about you all the time. So much so that sometimes we have to give her a warning. We all boast about our grandchildren, but she does it longer and louder.”
Fliss felt a rush of confusion. “She talks about me?”
“Of course. She’s very proud of you.”
“You never met a stronger, braver, more determined woman than my Felicity.” Rita and Dora chorused the words together and then burst into laughter.
Her grandmother sent them a cool look. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t boast about my granddaughter?”
Her grandmother talked about her with her friends? Boasted about her? She was proud? To her horror, Fliss felt her throat thicken. “I’d better take Charlie. He’s waiting by the door.”
Dora took a sip of tea. “You’re lucky, Eugenia. I wish there was someone who could help walk my Darcy. I’ve kept his walks very short since my arthritis started playing up. He does miss the beach so much.”
Fliss was relieved at the change of subject. The lump in her throat dissolved without causing further problems. “I could walk him for you.”
Dora lowered the cup. “Would you?”
“Why not? I’m here, I have time on my hands, and I’m already walking Hero and Charlie.”
“If she does, then you’ll pay her,” her grandmother said. “And you’ll pay her a fair rate.”
“I’m starting to understand why you’ve never sold this place to all the people who come knocking,” Rita said. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“My house has never been for sale. Nor has my friendship. And you can laugh all you like, but my granddaughter is not running a charity. She runs her own business, you know, in Manhattan.”
“The Bark Rangers,” all four women chorused, and this time Fliss smiled.
“You know about us?”
“Every detail. We have celebrated every new milestone right along with you,” Dora said. “And I’m happy to pay. I’d expect nothing less. Would you do it for me, honey? Darcy is very social and he’s not getting out enough.”
Fliss took Charlie’s lead from the cupboard by the door. “Of course. What breed of dog is he?”
“He’s a Labrador. A great big softie. Twice a day would be good, if you think you can fit it in. And he’s a very indiscriminate eater, so you have to watch that. Your grandmother is right. You’re a good girl.”
No, Fliss thought. She wasn’t a good girl. But she was happy to walk dogs. “Not a problem. I’ll give you the questionnaire we use, then meet Darcy and work out a plan. I can start tomorrow if you like.”
“Thank you. I guess all that walking is why you have such a great figure.”
Feeling more comfortable among them, Fliss leaned forward and stole a cookie from the plate on the table. “Which book are you reading for your book group?”
“Matilda’s latest.”
Remembering the pages she’d read, Fliss lifted her eyebrows. “They’re pretty racy.”
“That’s why we read them. There was a time when we used to find our excitement between the sheets, but now it’s between the pages. And talking of excitement—” her grandmother studied her over the top of her glasses “—I didn’t hear you come home last night. How was your date?”
“She had a date?”
Five pairs of eyes were suddenly fixed on her with interest, and Fliss paused with the cookie halfway to her mouth, wishing she’d left when she had the chance.
“It wasn’t a date.”
“He invited her over and cooked her dinner.” Her grandmother glanced at her friends. “In my day we called that a date.”
“Grams—”
“It must have been a date,” Dora said, “because she doesn’t want to talk about it. When you don’t want to talk about a man, it’s a sign that you’re interested.”
“Who was the man?” The question came from Rita, and Fliss started backing toward the door, panic rising along with the color in her cheeks.
“It was no one—”
“Seth Carlyle.” Her grandmother picked up her cards and studied them. “Our sexy vet.”
“The most eligible man in the Hamptons,” Dora said. “It’s time someone snapped him up.”
“She already snapped him up once before,” Jane muttered. “Your memory is failing you, Dora.”
Fliss squirmed. “I’m not snapping him up, Rita. I’m not doing anything at all with him.”
“Shame. So you’re not seeing him again?”
She’d thought about it all day and decided it was stupid to see him again. There was a difference between a casual encounter and going sailing. She’d been planning on texting him. “It was casual, that’s all.” She tried to forget the way Seth had looked at her when they’d stood side by side on the beach.
Jane looked interested. “So you saw his new place?”
Fliss opened her mouth, but her grandmother spoke first.
“I’m glad he has his own place. Ocean View is beautiful, but it can’t be easy rattling around in that big old house without his father.”
“I agree.” Dora nodded. “The boy needs to sell it.”
But he didn’t want to, Fliss thought. Selling it was going to break his heart. He felt as if he was giving away all those memories.
“Boy?” Martha raised an eyebrow. “Maybe my vision is better than yours because I don’t see a boy. Our vet is all man. Those shoulders!”
“And his arms.”
“For me it’s those dark eyelashes and the stubble,” Rita murmured. “The man has more sex appeal than I’d know what to do with.”
Fliss opened her mouth and closed it again. She’d known exactly what to do with it.
She still did, which was another reason to keep her distance.
“It’s the Italian blood. Mama mia. He’s a strong man, but so gentle with the animals. Sometimes if I use my binoculars and stand on a chair I can see him running on the beach,” Jane confessed and Dora smirked.
“I see him regularly since Darcy’s arthritis got worse.”
Rita gave a little cough. “I overheard Mrs. Ewell in the library the other day confessing that half the women in this area take their pets when they’re not really sick, just so that they can talk to Seth. He has such a calming way about him. In a crisis that man is rock solid.”
Fliss gaped at them. “You’re saying people take their animals when they’re not really sick?”
The women exchanged glances. “It’s been known,” Jane said, polishing her glasses.
“Well, I envy the woman he ends up with.”
“Me, too.” Jane slid her glasses back onto her nose and glanced at Fliss. “Does he kiss well, honey?”
“Jane Richards!” Her grandmother intervened. “She hasn’t kissed him since she was eighteen. She’s not going to remember how he kissed.”
She remembered. She remembered the feel of his hands and his mouth. The rip of sensation. The liquid heat that had pooled in her belly.
“I don’t remember.” Her voice sounded strangled. “No recollection.”
“Oh.” Jane looked crestfallen. “When he kisses you again, we want to hear all about it. And don’t look at me like that. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a bit of sex talk. Especially when talking is all I get these days. Books, movies, conversation. That’s it.”
“True.” Dora nodded. “But we’re embarrassing Fliss, so I think it’s time we minded our own business.”
“When have you ever minded your own business, Dora Sanders?”
“Maybe I haven’t, but I’m afraid that if I upset Fliss, she won’t walk Darcy.”
“I can’t wait to walk Darcy.” She couldn’t wait to get out of here. Fliss grabbed Charlie by the collar and made for the door. “Nice to meet you all.”
“When you’ve walked Charlie, you should join us. When we finish our game we’re ordering Chinese from the Jade Garden and watching Sex in the City.”
“You can give us the young person’s view.”
Fliss blinked. “That’s kind, but actually I’m busy this afternoon.”
Five pairs of eyes fixed on her face.
“You’re seeing Seth?”
“In fact I am. We’re going sailing.” What harm would it do? It was a perfect afternoon for sailing, and if the alternative was hanging around for poker and sex talk, she was definitely out of here.
Seth, she thought, was the lesser of two evils.
There was a low murmur of approval from the women at the table.
“Not so casual, then,” Jane murmured.
“Don’t rush home,” her grandmother said. “When we’re finished here I’ll be having an early night so I won’t be good company.”
Were they suggesting that she stay the night with Seth? “I won’t be—”
“Live while you’re young,” Dora urged and Jane nodded.
“Before your hips creak.”
“Go get him, honey,” Rita said, punching the air with her fist.
Fliss fled.
* * *
DORA WAITED UNTIL the door slammed. “Success.”
“Do you think so?” Martha looked doubtful. “Far be it from me to tell you how to handle your own granddaughter, Eugenia, but I think you almost overplayed your hand there. Especially the part where you tried to get her to stay the night with him.”
Jane nodded. “Doesn’t do to interfere. That never turns out well.”
Eugenia slapped her cards on the table. “With my own daughter, I didn’t interfere enough and I should have done. If I have one regret in life, it’s that.”
Dora put her cards down, too. “You’re too hard on yourself. What could you have done?”
“I don’t know, but I should have done something. That’s what. I knew that marriage wouldn’t work out, and I stood by and let it happen.”
“That’s not how I remember it. She made her own decisions, Eugenia. She did what she thought was right for her. And since when did children ever listen to their parents? Even grown children. She probably wouldn’t have listened to you anyway.”
“Maybe not, but I wish I’d tried.” Eugenia looked at the door, where Fliss had recently disappeared. “When a marriage goes wrong, it doesn’t just affect one person. It reverberates. It’s like an earthquake. It destroys some structures and weakens others.”
“Fliss doesn’t seem weakened. She’s a strong girl. If nothing else, her childhood taught her how to protect herself.”
“That’s what worries me.” Eugenia removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. Since her fall she felt tired. More tired than she had in a long time. It had shaken her feeling of security, made her fear a time she might need to depend on people for help. “She protects herself a little too well. No one can get close to her. She holds everything she feels inside because that bastard my daughter married made her feel worthless.”
Jane gasped. “Eugenia! Sex talk and poker isn’t enough for you? You have to use that language, too?”
“If I could think of another word that fitted, I would have used it.”
“You did what you could. You threw him out of your house.”
“But she went back to him. She always went back to him.”
“Love is a complicated thing.”
“Particularly when it’s one-sided.” Eugenia rubbed her fingers over her forehead. “I should have sold this place and given her the money for a divorce.”
“You offered. She didn’t want that.”
“If I’d sold it without telling her, she wouldn’t have had a choice.”
“And she would have lost the place that was her sanctuary. And a sanctuary for the kids. Every summer she brought them here.”
“And at the end of every summer they left again. Back to hell.”
“He abandoned his family a decade ago, Eugenia. Why are you talking about this now?”
“Because his legacy lives on. I see it in the way Fliss lives her life.”
“Maybe our sexy vet will change that.”
“Maybe.” Eugenia made a decision. It seemed so clear, so obvious, she wondered why she hadn’t done it before. She sat up a little straighter. “And maybe he needs a little help. And I’m going to give him that help, even if it means releasing a few skeletons from the closet.”
“A few? How many skeletons do you have in there?”
Jane frowned. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, then those are your daughter’s secrets, Eugenia. Not yours. If there are things she chose not to tell Fliss, then it’s not your job to do it. It’s not your business.”
“That’s where we disagree. When her secrets affect her daughter, my granddaughter, it becomes my business. There are things Fliss believes that are just all wrong. And in my opinion my daughter should have set her straight a long time ago. There were things she should have said that she never did. It’s not good for a child to grow up believing something to be the truth when it isn’t.”
“She must have had her reasons for keeping it quiet.”
“She did. Just as I have my reasons for coming out in the open.” She picked up her cards. “Now let’s play. I want to win big tonight.”
“Poker days are always so exciting,” Martha said. “Even though we don’t often finish the game.”
Jane glanced up. “Are we really going to watch Sex in the City?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why did you tell her we were?”
“It was the only thing I could think of that would make leaving the house more appealing than staying.”
“Did you see her face? Why is it young people think sex is something just for them? How do they think they got here in the first place?”
“I think we should watch it.” Jane was hopeful. “Just in case she comes home early and finds we were fibbing.”